


i am a man with a heart that offends with its lonely and greedy demands

by sondersoflight



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3564242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sondersoflight/pseuds/sondersoflight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you'll fall in love with someone who will never stop leaving you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i am a man with a heart that offends with its lonely and greedy demands

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo, I started writing this last year after DOFP came out, and it was written randomly through these months so I apologize for all the inconsistencies. Thank you so much to my friend Mel for beta-ing this for me, any mistakes left are all mine and well I hope it's enjoyable!

1.

 

Raven knows her brother better than anyone.

She’s known Charles since she was a child, as he was as well, and she realized later on that she was the first person who’d ever bothered to know him at all. Growing under the careless gaze of his mother and the too harsh touch of his stepfather, no one really had bothered with Charles Xavier beyond the surface at all. Not before she came along. In a way, she guessed, that was why they were drawn to each other so much at first, two people who were so very different, and so very much cast aside by the people who were meant to love and nurture them, found a family on each other, built a home around that fragile bond.

It’s not like that nowadays.

They’ve found people like themselves, others who were scared or alone and who didn’t know how to not hide. But it’s even more than that. Raven knows, even if Charles was a child himself when he took her in, he’s always seen her as his baby. Someone he has to protect and take care of constantly, which is ridiculous considering Raven is ten times more capable than Charles and he probably knows it. But in Erik, it seems, Charles has found an equal. Raven sees the quiet, careful looks and the doubtful touches, but it’s not the same. Even if there is no denying Charles cares for Erik a great deal.

Erik is also someone who makes her brother act absolutely ridiculous.

Charles has never been a shy person. He’s actually rather shameless and over the top. He actually seems to think his ridiculous pick up lines is what does the trick on him getting laid. Instead of the fact that he’d probably have the rent boy appearance down to a T if he stopped insisting on dressing like Uncle Alfred used to. Seriously, how can someone under the age of fifty own that much tweed?

The point is, Raven knows her brother isn’t shy at all, ever, it’s mostly the telepath thing she guesses. That’s why she’s left wondering what is it exactly about Erik that makes him act like a blushing, blubbering idiot. Charles is not intimidated by him. Not like how everyone else in the house is. That much is obvious. Even if he should be, every time they have any sort of argument, Charles stares back defiantly and it looks very much like a mouse daring a Doberman.

So one morning when Raven is in the kitchen having breakfast and trying to figure out exactly what’s gotten into Charles, her plans take an abrupt turn.

She doesn’t know how she hadn’t noticed before. Maybe because Sean likes to practice his self dubbed “Soprano Voice” every morning to annoy Alex; apparently he doesn’t appreciate his own life enough to stay clear from annoying a guy who can literally blow him up. However, he is late for breakfast today. It’s just Alex and Hank sitting quietly with her. Both too asleep to indulge on their cute little pseudo rivalry. Erik is standing by the counter pouring himself some coffee.

When Charles walks into the kitchen, pillow creases fresh on his cheek, Erik turns around, does something that vaguely resembles a smile and hands him a cup. Raven mentally snorts. Yes she knows her brother too well. If there’s ever been one thing that’s certain about Charles is that he is extremely picky about his tea. To the point where he doesn’t let anyone else make it for him. She waits for him to put down the cup or pour it down the drain like he has done before when anyone else has tried to make it for him. To Raven’s uttermost shock, he brings the cup to his lips and he takes a sip.

Raven feels like her eyes are about to pop out of her sockets.

Charles holds the cup between both of his hands and smiles at Erik once more, muttering a soft “Thank you, my friend” before he walks towards the table and sits down. Erik grabs the paper and follows him after a second. They sit next to each other. Charles stares into the distance and sips on his tea occasionally while Erik flips through the pages, acting like this is completely normal, like Raven isn’t about to have a minor stroke in the middle of the kitchen at 9 a.m.

Hank and Alex continue having breakfast as if the world’s axis hasn’t just shifted. After a couple of minutes Hank gets up and leaves towards the laboratory. Then Erik puts the paper down, drains his cup of coffee, and raises an eyebrow at Alex that’s enough to get him off his seat and start following him towards the gym. All of this, however, she catches from the peripheries of her eyes. She’s too busy still staring directly at Charles, who is mysteriously still drinking the tea. The tea another person made for him.

“Dear if you want to try and glare a hole through my skull, I regret to inform you, you are very much failing to do so.” Charles says while picking up the paper Erik left behind and skipping directly to the comic strips.

Raven is about to retort when she notices Charles picking up his cup once more, only to notice it’s empty. He frowns and she sees the perfect opportunity to test her new theory.

“Want me to get you another cup?” She asks trying not to sound too eager or to think of her intentions to loudly. She knows she tends to project a lot when she gets like this.

Charles snorts as if this is the most ridiculous idea he’s ever heard. The exact way Raven was expecting him to react when Erik handed him the cup before.

He says before he gets up, “Raven you know I don’t like anyone else making my tea for me.”

Raven is about to remind him who made the cup he gulped down five seconds ago, but the affect her perfect comeback would have had is lost when Sean storms into the kitchen talking so loudly, Raven is sure she will be slightly nauseous for the next five hours.

A couple of minutes later Moira walks into the kitchen. Her and Charles start discussing some boring training program while Sean chugs down an impressive amount of scrambled eggs in record time. Raven decides to let it go. It was probably a fluke. Charles didn’t want to hurt Erik’s feelings, and he just took the tea to be polite like he tends to be.

She brushes it off and leaves the kitchen just in time to hear Sean muttering “Oh god I think I’m gonna vomit” followed by Moira’s loud screech.

 

-

 

Raven has almost forgotten “The Incident”, as she dubbed it in her mind, when it happens again. She almost convinced herself what had happened in the kitchen before had been a fluke. They are sitting around the fireplace. Charles is flipping through some book while Sean and Alex play a board game on the floor. Hank is sitting in the corner, frantically writing something down on a notebook. Raven is about to ask Alex and Sean if she can join them when Erik walks in.

Nobody but her turns to look at him. She realizes he is not looking at her, he is walking directly to the couch where Charles is lounging. Erik hands him a cup before dropping on the other end. Charles places his feet on Erik’s lap as if it’s the most common occurrence in the world.

“Thank you, Erik.” He says before taking a sip. “Chess later?” Erik nods. He picks up a magazine that had been discarded earlier and starts flipping through it.

Raven cannot fucking believe this.

Even more she can’t believe how anyone isn’t noticing this. They are right there, all over each other. Charles is fucking purring while drinking the tea Erik made him and no one is even looking at them. Her inner rant must have been a lot more flabbergasted than she originally imagined because Charles looks up after a minute and raises an eyebrow. She gives him a stern look. He just chuckles and goes back to his book.

She’s seriously considering that she’s losing her mind. Charles finishes his tea. Him and Erik get up and leave. They are not speaking at all but still looking at each other in a weirdly, intense way that does nothing to alleviate her worrying. Raven does know her brother and she knows how he is. How he unthinkingly gives himself to people who would never have the same courtesy. How he is gentle and in some ways still very much like that child whose mother turned away from him one too many times. She has seen how he looks at Erik, who is stoic and quiet, all discipline and hard lines that only waver slightly when he looks at Charles. But it’s not good enough.

Sure Raven was kind of intimidated by The Scary German Man Charles Fished Out Of The Ocean ™, but the thought of said Scary German didn’t frighten her as much as it made her livid. How could Charles be so stupid? How could he be letting Erik make him tea? She evaluated for a second bringing her concern up with the rest of the people Charles fished out of God knows where, but it was obvious they probably wouldn’t understand. She could already hear Alex snorting about making a big deal over “leaf water.”

Ten minutes later when Erik enters the room again to pick up the forgotten lighter from between the couch cushions, Raven makes sure to glare at him the entire time.

It’s even more infuriating how he doesn’t even seem to mind.

 

-

 

Over the next couple of weeks Raven continues watching both Charles and Erik with intent. She doesn’t catch Erik handing Charles any more cups, but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. Charles’ training drills have become even more exhausting during the week. Him and Erik spend a lot of time together not training, probably because they are apparently too good for it. Also because no one dares to ask. Just because Raven isn’t afraid of Erik doesn’t mean she’s stupid.

However after having a couple of days of careful planning she sets her agenda into motion. She makes an extraordinary effort to wake up before Erik, really is that man averse to the simple pleasures in life like sleeping in on a Sunday? Raven does it while telling herself it’s for the greater good.

When Erik walks into the kitchen and finds the table set he makes no comment. He just sits down picking up the paper beside his steaming cup of coffee. Raven smiles and sits down, waiting while more people start rising and coming into the kitchen. First is Hank, then Alex, and finally Charles. He is still disoriented. When he sits down he looks down at his filled cup and then at Erik, frowning when the other man doesn’t meet his eyes. Still he grabs the cup and takes a sip. His reaction is a little over the top according to Raven.

He spits out the tea dramatically, practically bathing Alex in the process. Then he looks around the table with the most betrayed look in his giant doe eyes.

“It’s just tea Charles.” Raven finally says. “There’s no need to be so dramatic.”

“You call this tea?” Charles answers as he gets up and pours the rest of the content of the cup down the drain. “This is an atrocity Raven! You know I love you dearly, but I don’t like you very much when you come near my tea.”

“I don’t see what the problem is.” Raven continues nonchalantly, “You let Erik make your tea for you all the time.” She finishes and looks up, leveling her gaze with Erik’s who now looks like he is willing to stare a hole through her skull. He could as well probably. She places her hand over her fork just in case.

Charles goes red faster than Raven’s ever seen him do so. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times and then he finally just puts the cup down and begins to make a new cup for himself. Raven snorts.Before she can enjoy her sweet victory Charles mumbles, “Yes...well.”

He clears his throat and levels his voice a little, trying to hide how embarrassed he is that his little sister has noticed this little display of domesticity between them. Raven has the decency to feel a little bad.

“Erik knows just the way I like it,” said Charles.

Raven does snort this time, but when her eyes meet Erik’s again the bastard has the nerve to smirk and raise an eyebrow at her. Charles is still blushing when he sits down again, practically inhaling his tea and running out of the kitchen. Erik does not stop smirking during the entire day.

It’d be kind of adorable if it weren’t so fucking insufferable, really.

 

2.

 

Hank has noticed a strange pattern on Charles’ training schedule.

He puts all of his work into planning very thought out training routines that can help everyone control their powers, but no one seems to be around when he is doing his own. Yet he never seems to loose grip on his ability. If he goes fishing around anyone’s mind no one notices, which Hank doubts but still. If he did, Charles has a very refined ability to be unnoticed, to perturbed the fragility of another’s mind without leaving a trace behind him. It’s impressive, but also kind of scary.

He’d asked Raven if Charles had ever lost control of his ability, but she just said he used to when he got really upset. She claims he learned to reign that in. The topic seemed to upset her, so he just left it alone. She said nothing and offered him a thankful smile.

So Hank had a theory that what made Charles’ apparently immaculate control slip was very strong emotions. Something strong enough to distract him, of what was certainly an exhausting grip to keep shielding away every thought that might come his way.

Without having to ask Charles about it, Hank gets to experience some sort of projection anyway.

The first time it happens he thinks he must have imagined it. It’s fleeting. He’s still half asleep when Charles walks into the kitchen mumbling a hello to everyone. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t see Erik handing him a cup filled with warm tea, but for a split second his head is filled with warm, deep emotion. The very distinct feeling of being cared for and a tinge of disbelief. No one else in the room seems to notice. Either they are still way too asleep or not paying enough attention, but Hank can’t see any reason why he’d feel that way. Feel something so intensely for even a second and then it would just vanish.

When he looks up, Charles is blushing and looking down at his cup, and Erik is sitting across from him, pretending to read the newspaper but failing tremendously, he’s staring directly at Charles with something that looks frighteningly like a smile.

Hank doesn’t mention it.

It happens a couple of times more. Hank doesn’t bring it up, but still it’s uncomfortable when he notices the ghosts of sensations going through him. Like blurry feelings something he can’t quite remember left behind, they are not always happy, sometimes the nostalgia of the feeling of something he hasn’t yet lost but knows it’s going to hits him for a second, and he worries. He doesn’t bring it up with the others because he is scared, and really what if he’s just imagining everything?

He tries to watch Charles and Erik discretely when they are all training, or during dinner, but they act the exact same way they always have. Erik seems unaware of everything but still at times the hard lines of his face soften when he looks at Charles and Charles, he is interested and fascinated by everything, most of all, Erik.

 

-

 

He finally brings it up again to Raven one afternoon, they are just relaxing, Raven thought it’d be fun to just lie on the grass of the massive garden the mansion has, they can hear Sean and Alex running around, and somewhere in the distance Hank feels the soft press of Charles’ mind, checking on them.

“Does Charles ever lose control?” Hank means to ask casually but he can tell it comes out rushed and rehearsed.

Raven doesn’t mention it but he can tell the same question again caught her off guard by the way her eyes flicker gold for a second before she regains her grip on herself. She titles her head and watches him for a moment before answering,

“Sometimes. He’s not an all-powerful God you know. No matter how much he would want us to believe so.” She snorts and rolls her eyes before continuing. “His grasp just slip from time to time, especially when he is experiencing particularly strong emotions.”

Hank knows he should drop it if he ever intends for this conversation to end in a casual manner but he presses on. “Do you remember the last time it happened?”

Raven’s mouth turns into a thin line but she doesn’t comment on Hank’s strange new interest.

“I think it must have been when he pulled Erik out of the ocean. It must have been about five seconds that his grasp slipped while he was on the water, but it was just-“ she stops herself for a moment, considering her next words in a way Hank’s never seen her do. “He’s usually far more gentle and barely noticeable when he makes contact with another mind. I guess the height of the moment didn’t allow him to be thoughtful.”

When Hank doesn’t say anything back, she presses on.

“Is that all of your little quiz?”

“I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, I was merely curious about the extension of his power, I thought you’d be the best-“

“Save your excuses Hank.” Raven snaps, her eyes focusing on anything but his face. “I know you’ve been feeling it too. You don’t have to lie to me about it to get information out of me. I thought you were better than that.”

“I’m sorry Raven, but I wasn’t sure-“ But before he can finish his second apology because she starts talking over him again, she sounds even more clipped now, as if she’s trying to protect Charles.

“I think it’s Erik.” She continues, “Of course, you already knew that.” She pauses for a moment and then asks, almost aggressively. “Do you have a problem with it?”

“No of course not. I was just…curious.

Hank knows the conversation is done for good. He hadn’t thought to bring up the possibility that Erik’s presence was what was making Charles control slip, but once again he found he’d underestimated Raven. Of course she’s know, you’d have to be blind not to notice how much of Charles happiness depended on Erik’s these days. After all, she had known him longer than any of them ever did, even if he tended to forget.

“I’m sorry Hank I didn’t mean to overreact I just-“ Raven starts again, breaking the tight silence that had settled around them. “Charles hasn’t always been- he’s just, has trouble finding people he can truly, be with you know? Even with me-“ She finally forces out. “I just wouldn’t like it. Anything getting in the way of that.”

They don’t speak again that afternoon.

 

-

 

Hank treasures the conversation with Raven, like all else after she’s gone. He misses the sudden alien outbursts of emotion in strange quiet moments, that’s all that seems to be left in the mansion. The place seemed to be haunted before, when they all had come together, but now, he’s sure of it. Some days he wakes up, and in that brief moment between sleep and consciousness he forgets anything ever happened, Cuba, the war, everything, and he expects to walk into the kitchen and find Charles and Erik sitting on opposites end, quietly sharing the space and silence, expects to find Raven running around the house, bright and beautiful and Alex and Sean, and he always reaches out to find the comforting presence of Charles mind, watching over all of them, but the absence of it hits him like a bucket of ice water every time.

There’s no family left, no understanding or growing environment of any kind. There’s just a bitter, hurt man who is addicted to this drug he provides, and to any kind of alcohol he gets his hands on, addicted to keep hurting himself even further than anyone could ever do, even through their own ghosting presence. There’s an abandoned house, falling apart, and inside of it there’s Hank.

The house, just like Charles, it’s still there. Broken, quietly falling apart.

 

-

 

The first time he feels it again, he knows immediately.

After the entire debacle is done, Logan has disappeared and so has Erik, Hank hasn’t dared asked, but Charles seems to be willing to allow him to help, wants to get back on the track he was before. Some days are harder than others but all in all, Charles will to recover seems stronger than ever before, so Hank leaves him alone when he notices it has been too much for him.

He knows the last few weeks have been taxing. Seeing Erik again, Hank knows if Charles had been capable to exercise his telepathy, both, him and Logan, would have enjoyed a lot of projection of what would have been for certain a very strange mix of emotions. Even in Washington, after Erik had dropped a stadium, albeit unaware, on him and attempted to murder the president (again) and Hank and quite probably had half murdered Logan, Charles had still seemed willing to forgive him if Erik had just said the word. He had let him leave, once again putting aside his moral code and everything he believed in.

Hank had not asked question. He knew better than to question Charles on anything concerning Erik, and he’d not dare bring Erik up without Charles doing so first, he had no idea what repercussion that could have on his recovery.

He is sitting in the lab when it happens, he is still working, trying to enhance the serum and maybe try to give Charles a little bit back of all he’s lost, when he feels it. It’s been so long but it’s unmistakable, the sharp unexpected intrusion in his own stream of consciousness, followed by a soothing and quick exit and a wisp of an apology. It all happens in a second but he can still identify the mark of the emotion left behind, hope and confusion, hurt and forgiveness and love and frustration, Hank tenses up immediately. He doesn’t think Erik is here to hurt Charles, but he can’t ever be too careful, more so if he somehow got his hands again on that helmet.

He feels a soft nudge and after granting permission Charles softly asks him to stay where he is, Erik is here, but he poses no threat. Hank doesn’t plan on interfering, but he still goes up to the kitchen just in case. He stays there, trying to busy himself when he suddenly sees Erik walking down the path that leads to the entrance of the house. He is holding the helmet between his hands.

When he gets to the gates, he stops and turns around, Hank gets the urge to duck and hide, feeling as if the distance doesn’t matter and Erik could still sense him watching from where he is, but Erik isn’t looking at him at all. His eyes are fixated on a point in the second floor of the house, and oh, that’s when Hank understands. He is looking at Charles.

He holds the gaze for a long time, until he moves his head almost imperceptibly and puts the helmet back on his head, turns around and leaves. Hank’s sure he would not have felt the tinge of flashing pain mixed with understanding if he had not be searching for it.  

It’s the last time he ever feels Charles slip.

3.

 

Moira realizes right away.

She’s not stupid, for fuck’s sake, whatever Erik’s opinion of her might be, she is a goddamn CIA agent, and one of the best ones. She picks it up right after they pull Charles and his new guard dog out of the ocean. Erik is skittlish, he doesn’t stay still and his eyes are always moving, frantically searching for a way out, his mind not doubt searching out for the metal in the room he can bend to his will if necessary.

There seems to be some sort of drift in the base that it’s solved by the time they are in the URSS, Charles gets up from the dirt and runs into the mansion of a soviet officer without giving much of an explanation just – ‘I can’t leave him.’ Which sounds like utter bullshit, especially considering they’ve known each other for barely a couple of weeks. She gets the feelings she missed a huge part of the story when Charles went into the ocean, jumped several feet into freezing cold dark water to wade out a man he had never seen in his life.

Honestly, it’s ridiculous. Even Charles’ little sister thinks so, Moira knows.

But Moira knows because of this thing Charles and Erik do. They don’t have most of their conversations out loud, that much is obvious but when she’s alone with them on the way to the URSS she starts to notice. The constant mental ping pong they seem to be engaged in isn’t enough for any of them and for a moment when they think her distracted, asleep or don’t care for her curious gaze, Erik leans back in his seat and brushes his hand against Charles for a mere second, Moira might have mistaken it for a simple accident in movement if she hadn’t seen the way Charles eyes light up. His entire face is contorted in a way that makes it impossible to tell he even felt it, but his eyes give him away. Always.

When their adventures behind the enemy lines end, in a much messier manner than Moira would have preferred, they get back to the base only to find out it’s been destroyed by the very man they’ve been chasing this whole time. Her co-workers, honest to god nice people, well some of them, are dead and there’s even a couple of kids missing.

Charles and Erik walk off to speak as if she is one more of the children, she can overhear their hushed whispers and then there comes a point where they stop talking and just stare at each other with a frightening intensity, Moira thinks they are going to end up having an argument but before she can intervene to stop it, Charles speaks up.

They all agree to let Charles show them what he had called ‘The House’, which looks more like something out of a Jane Austen novel, and once the kids see it they are all thrilled to stay there. Moira doesn’t mention the banter and quips that go between Erik and Charles as they are settling in, she’s too used to them, after all spending so much time with them on a plane to the URSS had been far more enlightening that she had ever needed. Seriously.

She’s moved into a room that’s across from Erik’s. He isn’t her favorite person, but they have a semi cordial relationship, Erik isn’t a man who practices pleasantries much but he tries to be...cordial, sometimes. When Charles is around mostly.

He doesn’t speak unless it’s absolutely essential, and most of the conversations he has, with Charles, are silent. She has noticed, especially during dinner, they sit on opposite ends and stare intently at each other while the kids keep on bickering and yelling at each other. Moira thinks, that in a twisted way is like looking into a family like scene. Albeit a fucked up one, but still.

She cares for Charles dearly, and she sees the way his eyes light up whenever he brings up the plans he has for the house, the plans he wordlessly includes Erik in. It breaks her heart.

Charles doesn’t seem to notice, glosses over it, prefers to ignore, the fact that they all know Erik’s days there are counted. He has a mission, and the fact that he cares for Charles doesn’t seem to change his plans, just complicate them more.

They talk in hushed voices and go to do training of their own constantly and no one ever questions it at all. Raven let it slip once, almost unwillingly if her face afterwards was anything to go by, that she had never seen Charles as happy as he was now. She didn’t know if she had meant, now that he had found more people like him or now that he had found Erik. She hadn’t dared ask either, and it’s not like Raven would have entrusted her with that kind of information willingly either.

She doesn’t notice any outright manifestations of devotion, with the exception of the intense and long stares they share when they think no one notices, except for the one time, they are all rarely having dinner together and Erik and Charles are sitting on the opposite ends of the table. She’d laugh about it if one of kids dared called them the nicknames they’ve given them to their face, even if Charles probably has already picked it up from one of their minds, last she’s heard “Dad” was going to be pissed if Hank let “Mom” try Cerebro for so many hours at a time again.

Charles hands are still on the table but the silverware besides his place moves slightly, brushing against his fingers occasionally. He is looking down and a smile is tugging at his lips, Erik on the other end of the table is leaned back, wine glass in his hand, unbelievably pleased about something, apparently. None of the others have noticed a thing, all too engrossed in the conversation going on between Sean and Raven.

The closest she ever comes to confirming her ongoing suspicions is one night when she was returning to her room after a late night of work, she catches Erik slipping out of his room, he is as informal as she’s ever seen him and he freezes when he spots her. She doesn’t say anything and just walks into her room, shutting the door behind her. She makes a mental note to talk to Charles in the morning. It’s not that she ever was the overprotective type, she just gets the feeling sometimes that Charles hasn’t had many people look after him. Maybe he needs someone to point out warning signs.

She has to put off the conversation the next morning, a jet packed with mutants on it’s way to stop nuclear catastrophe hardly seems like the place. Later, when she’s kneeling on a cuban beach, her hands shaking trying to prevent the blood from pouring out of Charles’ back, she thinks she should have made the time.

When they leave, finally managing to get out of that horrid place, she sees from the boat that the sand is red in the spot where Charles was lying for hours, the marks of Erik’s knees are long gone, erased by someone else’s but Moira knows she’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he tried to kill her. She instinctively checks for her gun, and immediately frowns, how stupid had she been, trying to use a weapon entirely made of metal against a man who could turn thousands of missiles around if it was his will.

Erik holds Charles while he begs him to join him, and even if Moira is still holding onto her neck, gasping for air, she can see his hands before he hands Charles almost limp body to her. He brushes them against his spine, the small of his back, openly now, she doubts anyone would care. After he leaves, she learns his last great gesture was useless anyway, Charles could not even feel the apology Erik was trying to give.

When they finally manage to get out of there, leaving a wreck behind them that can only be matched by what she imagines must be going on through the children’s heads, and she wonders if Charles will be put together enough to fix it at some point.

She looks over at Charles, and the look in his face let her know anything she might say is useless. He’s asleep now but soon he’ll be awake to his new reality, where the two people he cares the most for have left him bleeding on a beach, one of them being the cause of why he was bleeding at all. Moira thinks her heart might break when she remembers how he had looked in the morning, how full of hope he had been.

She only gives herself a minute or two to dwell on it, after all she has a job to do. She’ll have to suggest the CIA to fabricate some plastic guns.

4.

Seeing young versions of the Professor and Magneto is kind of unsettling to Logan. Realizing what’s behind the chaotic relationship they had back in the day is even more strange.

Having met their older selves, they seem more nuanced, especially Charles. He holds back a great deal and only answers to Erik when he is pushed way beyond his limit. Still he answers to Erik’s threats with patience and in turn Erik’s threats come in a different tone.

Their younger versions are different, more immature for sure, but there’s something else.

Charles is a mess. It’s hard not to notice right from the bat. Hank was not lying when he said there was no Professor there. His clothes are raggedy and he is dirty. Even when he doesn’t have his power, his emotions seem to pour out with every word he says. To the point where he might as well be projecting his misery to the entire house.

Charles had warned him he was a different man back then, but Logan could never guess how different he really was. He had a vague memory of the time Charles and Erik had tried to recruit him but nothing else. Back then Charles was still….Charles. Logan had no idea who he was now.

Erik hasn’t changed as much as Charles has. He is younger, more immature as well, and much more willing to leave Charles behind to pursue his ideals. Maybe because this Erik is so convinced he’s lost Charles. His older self seems way more unwilling to let go of the man he had once deemed his worst enemy. Erik seems unable to hold anything back, or he just doesn’t think it’s worth the effort.

Seeing them fight feels like intruding onto something private. It’s alien to see the Professor putting his feelings so much on display, and Logan briefly wonders if he is always like this with Erik. If Erik is painfully and obviously aware of every emotion going through Charles’ mind all the time. He recalls how when he had shown up to join them he had done so without his helmet.

Erik yells vehemently. Even when he seems weighed down by every word he says, he still forces them out. Charles’ words are messy and all over the place, like he had been holding them inside for so long. They came out without a making sense. Erik’s argument instead felt rehearsed, as if he’s been thinking about it for the last ten years. Thinking about the exact words he would say to Charles when they meet again.

There’s a lot of things Logan hasn’t ever asked the Professor, out of respect sometimes, others because he simply and truly does not care but now he understands. He understands why Charles keeps getting Magneto let away, and why he has never truly used his power to his full extent to put a stop to the mindless violence. It goes beyond his ideals of non-violence and everything he stands for. Personally Logan thought once or twice in the past - or is it the future now? - that Magneto needed a good punch to arrange his ideas a little.

Charles loves him.

He knew, obviously, but he had no idea it had been going on for this long. That his love was so deep, to his perception his entire life had been turned upside down by the hand of this man. Still Charles’ eyes were filled with some sort of unconditional love. He was still not willing to sacrifice this one thing, this one person.

Erik loved him too. In the days that had come after the war, yes, that much was obvious. Now he had also seen, if it was not love at least there was something there, the reaction he had in the plane had said as much.

“We were supposed to protect them” He had said.

As if Charles and him had been the most natural thought back then, and later when Logan had mentioned he had been sent by both of them Erik was surprised. He was even outraged, but there was something akin to hope for a moment on his face, it was just a second, and then it was over.

It doesn’t matter to them at least for now. They both pretend they don’t know when it’s painfully obvious, but perhaps it’s even more hurtful to acknowledge the presence of such a powerful pull without being able to do anything about it.

Knowing it wouldn’t change anything; not their path or their inevitable and violent separation. Logan has tried to forget what that kind of longing can do to someone.

They fight like they’d give anything to change the other’s mind and at the same time they know it’s pointless. The worst part is that they have all of this knowledge of each other, it’s obvious to anyone watching. When they are having breakfast at the hotel Erik leaves the parts of the paper he knows Charles wants to read in the middle of the table. Charles pushes the marmalade towards the middle of the table as well. Neither of them say a word to each other.

When they were on the plane Logan had woken up to find a blanket draped over Charles with Erik sleeping in the seat next to his. While in his sleep his own body had turned towards Charles, his arms stretched, almost touching him. It reminded him of the murmur, Erik walking over with the chess set, the closest to an apology he’d get for now. It was as if he couldn’t help himself, not even in sleep.

They both look tired, a kind of tired Logan knows too well, that sleep can’t cure. They eat in silence while Erik keeps sneaking glances but knowing too well they won’t be met. Charles had hardly looked him in the eye more than five times since they were reunited.

Through his haze he barely hears Charles saying to Mystique, “We’ve come for you, together.” As if everything could be fixed by those simple words. It sounds as if for a moment he believes he can turn back time to before October of 1962.

It takes mere seconds before Erik brings him back to the reality they live in now.

5.

Ororo notices the late night visits a week after moving into the School.

Adapting to a new a place so far away from her home and family has been hard. The Professor is nice and he’s been understanding. He has treated her with respect and shared with her all of his knowledge as well, all the while being fascinated with her powers. Still she has always liked to look at the stars at night, to feel a little closer. Her mama used to tell her they are the same everywhere.

The moon is out tonight, illuminating the entire garden of the house. She can make out the different colors of the flowers the Professor loves so much. As well as the fresh drops of rain on the grass. That’s why she first noticed a man walking through the garden through her window. He isn’t even trying to hide. He has some sort of helmet in his hand and he walks as if he knows exactly where he is going. Ororo has never seen him before, and for a moment she fears she might have to run to the Professor or Hank’s room to warn them. Then she realizes the Professor probably knows this man is here already. Maybe he is just another mutant in trouble looking for a place to stay.

She gasps when he gets under the Professor’s window and stars levitating above the ground with little effort. The window is open and he climbs in. Either way the noise seems to have woken up her roommate.

“Ororo,” Jean says without opening her eyes. “Go back to sleep. We have lessons with Mr. Summers tomorrow and you know how he gets.”

Ororo hums in agreement and goes back to bed.

The next morning she doesn’t say anything but she notices the Professor comes down later looking funny with his shirt buttoned up all wrong. She notices the looks that go on between Mr. Summers and Mr. Mccoy, worrying and disapproving at the same time, but neither of them say anything. No one else seems to have noticed anything. Ororo thinks they haven’t been watching the Professor close enough though. His smile seems so much brighter this morning.

It happens a couple of times more. She doesn’t know how often or if she’s noticing the man every time he comes in. Eventually it becomes easier for her to fall asleep without needing to stay up looking at the sky because the School has started to feel more like a home for her. She does start to keep track again when she notices she can spot the changes in the Professor’s humor the next morning. She has vowed not to say anything. The Professor is a good man and whatever it is, whoever that man is, he makes him happy. The worry lines on his forehead seem to fade for a bit until midday at least. His smiles seem more heartfelt.

One day however the silent pact that seems to have been going on between some of the inhabitants of the house is broken.

“You seem cheerful this morning, Professor.” Jean comments as she spreads butter on her toast. “Had a good night sleep?”

Mr. Mccoy looks down at his lap immediately. Ororo is sure that if he behind all of that blue fur he’s blushing. Mr. Summers on the other hand seems amused by Jean’s comment. He looks at the Professor raising an eyebrow like a challenge.

“Yes Charles,” He adds. “Didn’t the bed bugs bite? Cause it sounded like-OW!” He exclaims when Mr. Mccoy elbows him quite obviously.

The Professor remains oblivious, smiling at Jean. “I guess I did Jean. I hope you had a good one as well.”

“I did. Thank you Professor,” Jean replied ignoring the hushed argument going on between Mr. Summers and Mr. Mccoy.

A couple of weeks after when the entire morning is long forgotten, Ororo stays up late again and sees him. Except this time the man doesn’t just climb in. He stays hovering above the ground as if he is waiting for something. After a few moments, she hears the Professor’s voice loud and clear in the silence of the night.

“Erik, you old fool. Must you keep this up?”

The Professor sounds exasperated but oddly endeared.

The man, Erik, doesn’t seem offended at all. In fact, and by what she can tell by the reflection of the light on his face, he is smiling.

“How rich of you to call me old Charles. Who is the one losing his hair?”

The Professor laughs out loud. Ororo has to hold her breath, wondering who is this man? She can’t see the Professor’s face but he sounds relaxed. He sounds happy.

“Stop pretending you don’t find it attractive,” replied Charles.

“I never said anything about how I felt about it. I just pointed out a fact.”

“Oh just come in you idiot!”

The voices died down after that, retreating into the room. Ororo went back to her bed and hid under the covers while mulling it over. The man seemed to make the Professor happy. Almost carefree by the way he sounded. Bantering and joking around in a way he held back from doing with Mr. Mccoy or Mr. Summers. He wasn’t the Professor to that man, he was just Charles. The way he said his name was different from the way the other professors said it.

After a minute she felt a slight nod against her mind and-

_Ororo, go to sleep._

Right.

 

+1

It’s icy outside and inside. Ugly white fog blurs Charles’ vision.

He has caught a cold and Erik has been on a rampage for the last month or so. Blowing up facilities and destroying public property, and it has just been a bad couple of weeks for him. Today he doesn’t feel like getting out of bed.

It’s Sunday, which luckily means he doesn’t have to.

His bad mood had been on and off, but last night while going through his desk trying to find a paper Hank had needed, he’d accidentally found a polaroid of him and Erik. The polaroid was taken during one of their recruiting trips where they had ended up in Long Island. It had been a complete failure. They didn’t find the mutant they were looking for and the weather was awful, rainy and windy. Charles had insisted they’d go to the beach anyway and even if Erik had looked as unamused as usual, he’d obliged. Charles had bought candy floss and stuck some on Erik’s eyebrow, and he had smiled.

They had smiled a lot that day. His last memory of a beach was not nearly as happy, despite how bright the sun had been shining.

When it had started raining they ran into a small restaurant where they shared a pizza. Erik had smirked as Charles trailed his foot up his leg underneath the table. When they got to the hotel, the door had barely closed before he was pushing Charles against the it and kissing him silly.

He remembers after, his cold toes against Erik’s calves, whilst Erik’s lips were hot on his neck. He had told Erik a lot about his childhood that day. Charles had never felt more at home.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. Recalling it now it had seem like a day out of the life of two other people; two other people who him and Erik could have been but weren’t, and that were never going to be.

Charles knew it didn’t do any good to dwell in the past, and yet he allowed himself a day, to do so for this once. He deserves it, he thinks, considering his cold and everything so he warns off Hank and Alex, knowing they’d keep the children away.

He falls asleep and when he wakes up it’s dark. He can no longer see the snow falling outside, and the tea Alex had left on his nightstand has long gone cold.

There’s also the fact that someone else is in bed with him. Wrapped around him to be more specific.

“You’re cold.” It’s the first thing that comes out and it’s true. Erik’s hands have slipped under his pajama top and they are freezing against his stomach.

“I didn’t have any gloves, forgive me.” He waits a second to add, “Also I wasn’t sure I was allowed under the blankets.”

Charles makes an effort to move, twisting his upper half to look Erik in the eye. He hasn’t seen him outside the opposing side of an explosion or on the evening news for so long. He has missed the way his eyes look when he is not perpetuating mindless destruction.

“Why are you here?” It’s a stupid thing to ask. They both know the answer.

“You are sick.” Erik says. “And I haven’t come...in a while.”

“So you thought you’d get me while my defences are down, literally?” Charles teases as he accommodates his body so he can rest his head against Erik’s chest. “You are awful.”

Erik hums and slips under the blankets, helping Charles accommodate his legs in the process. He slips his arm around Charles’ body and buries his nose in the midst of his hair, it smells like his shampoo.

“Do you…” Charles starts after they’ve spent a couple of minutes in silence. Erik’s breathing hasn’t evened out yet so he is not asleep. “Do you ever think about Long Island?”

“Sometimes.” Erik replies “It was a good day.”

“The best day.”

There is no space between them now. No titles, no Brotherhood or X-men, no politicians or ideological differences. For this little moment in time they are just Charles and Erik.

“We’ve had a lot of good days.” Erik says after a moment. “And nights.” He adds without being able to help himself.

“You’re impossible.”

He laughs for a moment but then he continues.

“I’m not right for anyone else, you know.”

Charles smiles against Erik’s neck. It should hurt, this knowledge, this certainty of what can never be...and yet.

“I know.” he replies, “Neither am I.”

 


End file.
